The King of Heliohapt
by Khuros
Summary: Armakan Amun-Ra, prince of Heliohapt and heir to the throne, takes on the role he isn't quite ready for when his father dies unexpectedly in a dungeon.
1. Sharrkan

Sharrkan stood before the great doors of the throne room, pondering how he could possibly tell his brother. Of course, Armakan most certainly would not approve of his decision to join Sinbad on his travels, but it was his life, damn it, and he would do what he wanted with it. A prince should choose how he lives, should he not?

If only it were so easy as to say, "Brother, I'm going to Sindria. Sinbad can't run a proper nation without my help." Armakan would probably disallow it out of spite if nothing else. Sharrkan bit his lip as he looked up at the golden, serpent-shaped handles of the door. He took a tentative step to grasp one, but his hand fell as quickly as it rose.

It was then that the doors opened towards him, being pushed from the other side, and Sharrkan had to step back in order to avoid being struck by the wide arc of such a large door. To his horror, it was none other than the young King of Heliohapt, Armakan Amun-Ra himself who walked out, accompanied by his personal guard, Anepou. Armakan, clad in jewelry that could only befit royalty, strode out into the hall as such, with Am-Mut, his pet snake, curled around his neck. Anepou moved silently behind him, and if one did not have the privilege to see the king so often, as Sharrkan unfortunately did, one may not even notice the existence of the man behind him, though he was nearly two heads taller than his king. Sharrkan was well acquainted with Anepou, as the tall, dark-skinned man's adept swordsmanship was what had sparked his own interest in swords. Though he wasn't considered a noble, Sharrkan deeply respected him as a fighter.

Upon seeing his little brother standing in the entry hall, Armakan smiled. "Brother," he said as he approached, his voice ringing out in the otherwise silent hall. "I was just looking for you. I… why are you just standing here all alone?" he asked.

"I-I was actually doing the same," he replied faintly.

Armakan nodded. "Good, good. Walk with me, would you? This is important."

Sharrkan did as he was asked and joined Armakan and Anepou as they strode down the spacious entrance hall of the palace. "What is this about?" he inquired of his elder brother.

"It concerns the dungeon that appeared just outside of the city two years ago."

"Vassago?"

"Precisely. Brother, do you know what happened to Sinbad and Kouen Ren when they came out having successfully conquered the world's first two dungeons?"

"They obtained wealth and power, didn't they?" he asked absent-mindedly. Sharrkan wasn't really paying attention to his conversation with Armakan. He was instead trying his best to come up with a plan of just how to tell his brother of his departure for Sindria.

"Indeed they did. So, let me ask you, have you ever wondered what would happen if somebody were to conquer Vassago?"

"I… uh… no, I haven't… But I imagine they would obtain wealth and power just as Sinbad and Kouen Ren did."

"And what would they do with that power, Sharrkan?" he persisted. They reached the steps to the palace and walked into the stale, hot air of Heliohapt. Ignoring the intense heat of the sun that beat down upon the city, the three of them began making their way down the immense staircase. Anepou moved quietly behind the two, making no move to interject in their conversation.

"I don't know, I've never really thought about it…"

"They would challenge the throne, brother!" Armakan grabbed his brother's arm, shaking him as if to send the words with more power than vocals alone could allow. "They would overrule us!"

"So what would you do? Make it forbidden to enter?" Personally, Sharrkan thought that that should have been done long ago. Not only had their father, the former king, sent thousands of men inside, but he himself had also gone into that cursed pyramid. None had ever returned. Sharrkan had once dreamed of bringing Sinbad to Heliohapt, and helping him conquer Vassago, but that was long ago, and he had since dismissed it as foolishness. Dungeons were nothing more than crypts to devour the weak and desperate.

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go conquer Vassago with me."

Sharrkan was caught off guard by that statement. Was Armakan serious? Each of the nine dungeons that appeared in throughout the world had ended thousands of lives, and only three of them had ever been conquered, and even then only by extremely capable individuals. Neither of the two boys were of age, but now Armakan wanted to go and throw both of their lives away.

"I know what you're thinking, Sharrkan, but it won't be just us. Of course, Anepou would join us," he explained as he gestured vaguely behind them. "He swore on his life that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to us. Besides, what would happen to our honor if we couldn't do it? That poser Sinbad conquered the world's first dungeon years ago when he was a _child_, and we have to capture Vassago before somebody else! How can we hope to hold the throne if somebody with more power than us wants it?!" Armakan glared intently at his brother, waiting for a response. It was obvious he was serious about this. Sharrkan looked worried. Anepou, while certainly a competent fighter, could hardly claim to be more effective than an entire army when it came to dungeon conquering, especially when serving as bodyguard for two adolescents. Was Armakan insane?

"Brother… I… You'll die if you go. If father couldn't do it–"

"Father was careless! What dungeon conquering is about isn't vast armies, it's small, fast groups! That's how Sinbad and Kouen did it, after all. Look, Sharrkan," he continued as they reached the bottom of the steps. "I need your answer now. Will you be the prince you were meant to be, guiding Heliohapt to a better future with the power of a conquered dungeon?" Armakan looked down on his brother, extending his hand towards him.

"B-before I give an answer, could we talk about what I wanted to ask you?"

"Can't it wait? This is important, Sharrkan! You can't run away from your duty!" Sharrkan took a step back at that statement, looking down and away from his brother and king.

"Armakan… I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving Heliohapt."

"Excuse me?" he lowered his arm, narrowing his eyes.

Sharrkan gulped. "I want to explore the world with Sinbad."

The king folded his arms and relaxed. "I knew letting you leave the country wouldn't be good for you. You've lost yourself out there, brother."

"You've lost yourself here, Armakan. I don't think you're ready to be king, and if you go into Vassago, you won't live to see the majesty in such a title. My answer is no. I don't want to die like father did, and I would advise you to stay away from there, too."

"I'm disappointed in you, brother," Armakan sighed, closing his eyes. "Of all things, cowardice was not a trait I had seen in you. I give you permission to leave Heliohapt."

"You-you do?"

"Yes. I hereby strip you of your title of Prince of Heliohapt and exile you from the country. You have three days to leave and you are _never_ to return. You are no longer my brother."

"A-Armakan…"

"Get out of my sight!" Armakan hissed, turning away from his brother, facing the palace once again.

Sharrkan nodded gravely, turning to go without another word. He knew full well it would do no good.


	2. Sinbad

It had been a month since Armakan had exiled his younger brother from Heliohapt, and the arrangements were nearly complete. As Armakan sat pondering on the throne of the vast, yet empty great hall of the palace, he glanced at the golden, snake-headed scepter– the symbol of his official rule over Heliohapt– held rather loosely in his left hand. At one time it had been his father's scepter. And his father's. And so on. But now it was his own, as was his birthright. Of course, he hadn't expected to ascend to the throne so early in his life, but with the appearance of Vassago, his father had all but thrown his life away to obtain the riches rumored to be held within.

Could he really expect to do what his father could not? He was not the king his father had been, and didn't pretend otherwise. His advisors, for the time being, were the ones handling matters he himself did not have a full grasp of, and Heliohapt was not as stable (in any sense of the word) as it had been before the dungeon arrived to haunt the lives of so many. Did Sharrkan's words have merit to them? He would never admit it, but he did feel guilty over how harsh he was to his younger brother that day, if only a little. But what else could he do? It wasn't like it really changed anything. Even if he hadn't exiled Sharrkan he still would have left Heliohapt, perhaps even for good. In fact, all Armakan accomplished was ensuring that his little brother never returned home. And was that really for the best?

But in Armakan's mind, Sharrkan was a fool and a coward, deserving of nothing else. He gripped the scepter tightly in his hand, as if trying to squeeze the life out of the reptile it resembled. He would regret choosing to run off with Sinbad to go do who-knows-what. Armakan would capture Vassago and Sharrkan would realize just how powerful his older brother was, and beg to return and serve at his side, only to be forcefully denied. He was an exile after all.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Armakan looked up to see Anepou coming through the hall towards the throne room, which almost assuredly meant that he had finished packing for the two of them and they could leave for Vassago immediately. Armakan practically leaped out of the throne in anticipation before noticing that a man kept pace just behind Anepou. He was most certainly not from Heliohapt, as he had bright skin and was more elaborately and ornamentally clothed than most natives, even compared to nobles. The young man wore his dark, lavender hair in a long ponytail and had jewelry lavishly dressed on his arms and around his neck. Armakan recognized him as the king of Sindria, Sinbad himself.

Armakan sat back down slowly as Anepou entered the room, with Sinbad waiting just outside the open doors to be granted official audience with the king of Heliohapt.

"Sire," Anepou began when he was within a reasonable distance, kneeling down as he spoke. "The king of Sindria is here. He wishes to speak with you immediately."

"Well," Armakan pondered, his eyes shut in thought. "This is unexpected. How rude of him not to send word of his arrival. Where are my advisors?"

"They are both currently engaged in other matters, and Sinbad tells me that it cannot wait.

"Of course it can't," Armakan scratched his chin, suspicious. "We're about to leave for a dungeon. What about the preparations?"

"Everything is set and ready to go, sire."

"Good. Thank you, Anepou. Send him in and make sure everything is prepared to leave at a moment's notice. I will be there when I can. Dismissed."

"Of course." Anepou rose and nodded once, leaving the way he had come. About half a minute passed before Sinbad made his entrance in the hall, and his quiet, steady footsteps gave him an aura of confidence about him in such a way that even Armakan was impressed. He rose from his relaxed, aloof position and stepped down from the throne to meet the man not as a subject but as an equal. Sinbad was dumbstruck when Armakan extended a hand before him. He took it and the two locked eyes in a mutual respect.

"Sinbad," Armakan murmured quietly as he looked up at the taller man.

"Armakan," Sinbad returned, smiling slightly. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"And you," Armakan nodded, his face expressionless. "My brother used to speak about you often. How is he?"

Sinbad was once again taken aback at the king's actions. This wasn't the uncaring, contemptuous man that Sharrkan had described to him. "He is… doing well. I've hardly seen a more talented swordsman, but if I may, sire, that isn't why I sought your audience."

"Of course not. You're not foolish enough to think I would allow him to return," Armakan stated, his tone blunt.

"R-right," Sinbad replied, shifting uncomfortably. "I came to formally request Heliohapt's joining the Seven Seas Alliance."

Armakan pursed his lips. "Why?"

"Well, sire, the Kou Empire has recently been advancing on smaller nations, taking them over and growing stronger. I received word that another of their family has captured a dungeon, and if we don't take precautionary actions, we will be caught ill prepared for any act of aggression they make against us. The Seven Seas Alliance is one of defense. Our creed is 'don't invade and don't be invaded'. As a nation in this alliance, one's job is to ensure the safety and preserve the independence of every other nation in the alliance."

"I see. One must aid in the defense of every nation in this alliance, then?" Armakan asked, moving back to take his seat once more upon the throne.

"Yes. The Kou Empire will not move against a united force as large as us. What do you say?"

Armakan sighed and shook his head. "I have no intention of sending troops to regions unknown when I will receive nothing in return. Heliohapt is quite distant from the Kou Empire, and thus I don't see any imminent threat to Heliohapt save for internal matters, which must be the focus of my power for the time being. In the future, my answer may change, if your offer is to remain open, but for now I must decline. My apologies."

"Would your answer change if I offered my assistance in capturing Vassago, Armakan?" the young man coaxed.

Armakan glanced up at Sinbad, suspicion arising. "And have you emerge with the power, glory, and riches while I tragically perish inside?"

"With all due respect, sire, I have enough of all of that. I'm merely offering my assistance in order to persuade your answer."

"I think not. Vassago will be mine and mine alone. Even if I believed you, my people would not respect me if a seasoned dungeon capturer aided me in my quest. Don't you agree?"

Sinbad nodded in understanding. "A fair point. Very well. But what about your brother? Surely you still care for him. Would you not send aid if you heard that he was in danger?" Sinbad asked.

"If I send aid, it would be in the form of an undertaker armed with nothing but a shovel," Armakan hissed.

Sinbad recoiled in surprise at his words. "I see. Well, in that case I will take my leave. Send word if you ever change your mind. Until we meet again, sire." He bowed to Armakan before turning to depart.


	3. Vassago

To say that Vassago's interior caught Armakan off guard would be an understatement indeed. The desolate pyramid's shadow loomed over the capital city with malicious intent nearly every afternoon, and, standing at its base, one could do little save for marvel at such an imposing structure. Had the young king not been so determined to conquer what he considered the embodiment and, strictly speaking, cause of Heliohapt's recent decline, he would most certainly have not stepped within several hundred feet of the dungeon. This very dungeon had killed thousands of valiant and courageous souls, including his own father. Each man that entered Vassago was a more capable a fighter than himself, (though he had received a sizable amount of training in swordsmanship for his age,) and every one of them had died in that monster. Was Sharrkan right? Was he too ambitious for such a task? Would he be killed like everybody else? Amarkan had struggled with those questions since the day Sharrkan left, and it wasn't until he had set foot into the dungeons entrance that he obtained his answer to them.

Yes.

The platform he stood on was of a somewhat thick, translucent blue, and the platform flowed organically into a thin path that went elsewhere. The remarkable thing about his whereabouts was the fact that the platform was all there was to see. Everywhere he looked he saw vast, unyielding emptiness, with stars spread sporadically across the sky. It was as though he gazed upon the endless, purple night sky, void of visual obstruction of any kind. The night continued even as he looked down, since the platform was only about a dozen feet in each direction, and he could see through it to some extent to peer at yet more stars. As Amarkan looked back to the road that branched off from the platform and lead elsewhere, he vaguely noticed that it faded out of view before he could make out an end to it.

It was only then that Armakan noticed that he was no longer accompanied by Anepou or his cart of supplies. He was completely and utterly alone in the great void he found himself in. Well, save for Am-Mut. The snake, coiled around his neck as it usually was, seemed to be asleep for the time being. That was some comfort at least. Amarkan sighed nervously at the nothingness, walked cautiously to the end of the platform, and placed his foot where he guessed the platform _would_ be if it continued. It didn't. This was no illusion. At least, the emptiness wasn't. There was no path other than the one provided, so he simply had to trust that that was the path. He strode down it cautiously, making his way towards the unknown destination that seemed so impossibly far away. As he walked, his mind wandered to Anepou. Amarkan had seen hundreds of men walk into the dungeon's portal at once. Is this where they had all ended up? Did they each appear on a different platform, regardless of the numbers that had entered? How big _was_ this place?

Then an echo came from far away, from somewhere behind and to his right. Amarkan stopped and snapped quickly around to see what had made that sound, but it was only Anepou. Wait. Anepou?

"Yes, sire?"

Before Amarkan could respond, he felt something grip his arm, intending to redirect his attention. "Armakan… I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving Heliohapt."

Amarkan swiveled back around to see his brother standing at the base of the stairs to the palace, with the bustle of the city around them. "What?!" he practically shouted, coincidentally at Sharrkan.

His little brother gulped visibly, nervous at his next words. Sharrkan dropped his hand from his brother's arm and let it fall to his side as he spoke. "I want to explore the world with Sinbad, brother."

Amarkan looked down and scratched his head, trying hard not to panic as he contemplated what was going on. "No," he thought aloud.

Sharrkan frowned at his brother. "I know you may not approve of it, but… I… I'm not exactly asking for permission." Sharrkan winced visibly at those last words.

"No, you can't be here. You're an exile!" Amarkan seethed.

Sharrkan froze, literally stunned by the king's words. Amarkan looked at the living statue of his little brother in sudden revelation. This must have been some weird dream thrown at him by Vassago. So be it. He made no move, but waited for Sharrkan to act to his statement.

"A-Amarkan, you're not really going to…" the prince shuddered. Sharrkan must have taken Amarkan's all-too-vocal confusion of the situation as a royal decree.

Amarkan sighed. As if exiling his own brother _once_ wasn't bad enough. "Yes, Sharrkan. I am. I hereby strip you of your title of prince of Heliohapt and name you exile. I'll give you a few days to pack." He turned his back on his brother and began solemnly walking up the steps to the palace. He didn't watch Sharrkan turn to leave. _That_ part, at least, he could not bear to see a second time.

It was several moments longer before he did finally find the strength to look back, and when he did, the king did not see the beautiful, albeit hot city that he called home. Instead, he turned to face the infinite canvas of innumerable stars that Amarkan had come to associate with Vassago's interior. He glanced downwards to see the blue, translucent path he stood upon once more. Had he made the right choice? Maybe Vassago had intended him to try to relive moments differently, and perhaps right wrongs that were done. If that was the case, surely he had failed by making the same choice he had made that day. Just what _was_ the fate of those who "failed" to do whatever Vassago's dreams were meant to? It seemed unlikely to fall into any sort of pit of spikes or step on pressure plates that would set off deadly arrows at this point, though he and Anepou had come fully prepared for that sort of thing. Of course, the emptiness was real enough. He could fall off the path into… nothing? Would he simply keep falling? It's easy to imagine falling when there is a visible—er—end, but falling endlessly is a different story. In fact, it seemed almost more terrifying.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, pressing his hand to his forehead. He had to focus. Standing here and thinking about dying wasn't going to get Vassago captured. He looked up and down the path he stood on. Each direction was indistinguishably plain. Both wound endlessly in almost opposite directions, and it was impossible to determine the direction from which he had come. Was that the challenge? Probably not. Such a simple task, while impossible to foresee, would only rule the population of those that continued to about half, assuming each person guessed as to their origin. Perhaps it didn't matter which way he went.

_Well_, he thought. _Only one way to find out._


End file.
